Vices
by Pickles
Summary: Rating for mention of Yohji's personal life, which we all know is rated NC-17. From Yohji's POV, but centred on all four of the Weiss boys.


This is my second one I'm typing tonight; I hope you guys like it. It's from Yotan (more of my clean stuff ^^) and it's just... weird. I think you'll like it though. See, in my mind, Yohji is kind of a disjointed thinker, and... yeah.  
  
Weiss belongs to Takehito Koyasu. Please don't sue me!!  
  
  
  
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Vices  
  
  
  
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Do they really think I like living like this?  
  
They can't. They can't honestly believe that.  
  
We all have our vices, you know? Our manner of escape.  
  
Aya-kun just hides in there somewhere. There are about sixty zillion layers of ice separating him from the rest of the world. Including us, likely the only people who could possibly understand him. One of these days I'm going to drag him out of his shell and see who he really is. Not to sound like a therapist or anything, but keeping it all inside is bad for you. If he doesn't talk to somebody really soon, it'll be like somebody blew up a balloon too far - BANG! Little plastic pieces of Aya-kun all over the floor.  
  
Okay, I can't think of a single therapist who would have phrased it like that.  
  
Then Omi will practically disappear inside a computer screen for hours at a go. One time, I bet him he couldn't hack into one of Bill Gates' bank accounts. It was a joke, I swear.  
  
Not to Omi, apparently. He hacked ups fifty grand and put it in our bank account. Crazy kid. Not that we didn't put the money to good use.  
  
Well, that's what happens, I guess, when you rais somebody to be an assassin. I still can't believe that kid's uncle raised him to be out for blood. The reason he can smile so much is because he was raised to PLAY in blood. Killing is nothing out of the ordinary for him. You know, it's like, Mondays mean take out. Tuesdays mean pizza. Wednesdays mean meatloaf. Thrusdays mean we kill. He probably has more mental problems than the Farf.  
  
And then there's Ken. Ah, dear darling Kenken. He's more childlike than any of us - even Omi, somehow. His vice? Come on, don't ask. Isn't it obvious? Soccer. He loses himself in the sport. Playing with the kids, he goes easy on 'em, but I saw him play a real game with some university students. The obvious concentration on his face as he chases the ball across the field, the way he comes up from a faceful a mud smiling maniacally, will tell you that much. Three against one and the students never had a chance.  
  
Kenken is so naive. He's like a little kid. He believes with all his might that when the sun comes up the next morning, everything is forgiven and everyone gets a new chance. I don't know how he's managed to hold on to that, but it's such a refreshing viewpoint for me. And Aya, I think. We're old hands at the game though, and it gets exhausting for us.  
  
And then there's me. Kudoh Yohji. I have all the traditional vices. I smoke. I drink. I'm a slut with my body. I do drugs. All your basic, expected excapes, I use. Well, hell. Nobody else around here does anything normal, I guess I might as well be the exception to our rule.  
  
I wouldn't do it this way if I didn't have to. I hate living in a drug- induced haze. I don't like sharing my body with every chance stranger who happens to take a liking to it. I hate the way everything I eat tastes like smoke. And the part that's worst is my aversion to the sunlight, thanks to what I call my perpetual hangover.  
  
No, there's no doubt about it, I hate the way I live.  
  
But if I didn't live this way, what WOULD I do? What would happen to me?  
  
Well, this isn't the first time I've considered this one. I have a few options prepared.  
  
One is that I would sit on my ass all day in self-pity and self-hate. Self- pity because Asuka's not here to drag my sorry ass out of this mess, like she always did. Self-hate because I couldn't save her, because I let her die. And because I've killed people for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.  
  
Another is that I'll become a crazy psychopath who likes to cut himself, lick knives, and hurt God. My roommates will have to hang me upside down in a strait jacket when we're not on missions. I don't want to be Farfie. Blood-crazed killers aren't sexy.  
  
My last option is that I'll become a true florist. I'll call my arrangements works of art. The flowers will be like my children. *shudder* That's the scariest though I've ever had.  
  
Yeah, I've got my vices. We all do. I need mine. I would turn into something scary if I didn't have them. We all would, I think.  
  
The bottom like is, for our little group, vices are a good thing.  
  
~~~OWARI~~~  
  
Weird, ne? Or maybe you think it's normal? Lemme know!!!!!! R&R!!!!!!!! 


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